


Tight fit

by chiliscale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiliscale/pseuds/chiliscale
Summary: It´s Dean´s turn to be the little spoon.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	Tight fit

**Author's Note:**

> Old trope, but come on, it's fun :)

“This is bullshit.“ Dean grumbles and stares at the too-small bed in front of him. “We´re never going to fit.”

He´s not wrong, exactly, if Sam is being honest. The bed _is_ tiny – too small, too short, Sam´s feet dangling off the edge if he´s stretched out to his full height and not curled up like a kitten.

Still, it´s clean and comfortable, and Sam is exhausted. Knows, that Dean is, too. This is not a battle Dean is going to win, and they´re both more than aware of that fact. Doesn´t mean that Dean won´t try – for the sake of the argument if not for anything else.

“Quit bitching and get in here,” Sam growls back, totally unmoved by the epic force of Dean´s best death glare, and pats the empty space in front of him invitingly. “The bed is fine. You´re only grumpy because it´s your turn to be the little spoon.”

They take turns, of course. Mostly, because Dean swears that Sam´s going to "smother him to death with his Gigantor arms" one of these days. They both know his protest is just for show, though. Dean´s a freaking cuddler.

“Am not.” Dean mutters sullenly, but plops down on the bed anyway. He´s all tense muscles as he settles down in front of Sam, shoulders stiff and unrelenting, careful to keep enough distance between them to prevent them from touching.

"Oh, for fuck´s sake!” Sam rolls his eyes and throws his arm over his brother´s middle to pull him in, routinely blocking Dean´s half-assed backwards kick to his shin, not stopping until they´re pressed together from chest to ankle, not an inch of space between them.

Sam sighs happily and buries his nose in his brother´s neck. Dean smells _good_ , shampoo and soap and warmth, his hair still a little damp from the shower. Sam could happily fall asleep like this, spend the whole night with Dean in his arms.

Unfortunately though, his brother clearly has other ideas.

"Dude!" Dean protests and starts to twist in Sam's hold. "Back off a little, will you? I'm not your freaking teddy bear!"

"Shaddup." Sam mumbles sleepily and tightens his hold, hand splayed possessively across Dean´s stomach. "You love it."

"Fucking clingy Sasquatch." Dean curses and tries to slip from Sam's grasp. There's not much room for him to work with, though, and so he only ends up wiggling even closer.

"You'll fall off the bed if you keep that up." Sam comments dryly, voice muffled by a mouthful of Dean´s hair. "I'm not patching you up if you hit your head on the nightstand."

Dean stiffens.

"You promised to never bring that up again." He growls after a tense minute of silence, betrayal and indignation tightening his voice.

"Only, if there´s other people around," Sam corrects him smugly, "it's fair game when it's just the two of us."

This time, Dean´s elbow meets his mark. "Fucking smartass."

Dean starts twisting again, trying to wiggle downwards this time instead of breaking through the steel bands of Sam´s arms. The movement brings his ass in perfect alignment with Sam's groin, and bone deep exhaustion or not, Sam is only human and with all the wiggling and shifting -

" _Sam_!" Dean sounds almost scandalized. "Damnit, you´re getting off on this, aren´t you?"

"I am not!" Sam hisses. "It´s all your goddamn wiggling! I can't help it with you squirming around like that. This is all your fault, if you kept still for once, for fucking _once_ , Dean, then -"

"Ah, fuck it." Dean interrupts and twists around, nearly breaking Sam´s nose with the back of his head in the process.

Finally, they´re face to face, both of them carefully balanced on their respective edges of the bed, just enough space between them so their hands can still fit.

Dean grins, slow and dirty, and slips his hand beneath the waistband of Sam's boxers. "Want some help with that, Sammy?"

*

When Sam wakes up the next morning, Dean is still passed out right on top of him, head on Sam's chest, a little puddle of drool slowly growing beneath his mouth. One of Dean´s hands is clutching at Sam´s shirt, the rest of their arms and legs are a mess of entangled limbs. Business as usual.

Sam´s stomach growls and Dean sighs, mumbles something unintelligible and buries himself deeper into Sam's chest as if to escape the sunshine that´s pouring in through their window. He only stills when Sam brings his free hand up and starts carding his fingers through Dean´s messy hair.

"Knew you loved it." Sam tells him smugly and then closes his eyes again, slowly drifting back to sleep.


End file.
